


You Love Who You Love

by landofalwayswinter



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landofalwayswinter/pseuds/landofalwayswinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is oddly broody and has lots of feelings and Joly and Bossuet are cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Love Who You Love

Sometimes, Grantaire wondered if the people who didn’t follow Enjolras did so out of self-preservation; Enjolras was a glorious flaming beacon of perfection, and anyone who wasn’t risked burning up next to him. Grantaire knew it wasn’t easy to feel good about yourself if you were constantly being compared to Enjolras. Grantaire wished he was more like that, able to let his doubts and insecurities fade to nothing and be sure that what he was doing was the right thing. But the world had always sucked and would continue to suck long after he was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. He wished sometimes that he didn’t know that, that he could find a cause and give himself to it completely. He wished he had it in him to fight for a hopeless cause, not because it would succeed, but because it was _right_. Sometimes watching Enjolras felt like watching Don Quixote, with The People as his Dulcinea; a beautiful ideal and nothing more. A relationship with no base in reality. 

Except Enjolras wasn’t tilting at windmills.

But neither were the animal rights activists, or the environmentalists, or anyone else who thought their cause should take precedence above all. Any cause that became big enough became an organization, and once they became an organization they became as corrupt as the people they were fighting in the first place. Grantaire wondered if he was following Enjolras to see what would happen to this paragon of virtue and integrity; if he would become corrupted, or if he would win. Grantaire hoped he won. He couldn’t imagine the Enjolras he knew ever falling to corruption (but then, he supposes, if you could spot corruption in advance there wouldn’t be any), and he didn’t want to watch Enjolras die. He didn’t want to watch Enjolras become as bitter and jaded as he himself was. Because the truth is that society isn’t the problem - people are. The People, who Enjolras loved so much, were just as corrupt as the people in charge - the only difference was that they didn’t have any power to abuse. Grantaire had seen people tear each other apart over the most insignificant things, he could not believe that utopia was waiting if only they could get the right laws, or the right political framework, or whatever Enjolras thought he was going to achieve. 

He didn’t seem to understand that the world wasn’t made up of perfect saints of justice like him, it was made up of flawed losers like Grantaire. Grantaire wondered how Enjolras could be around Grantaire almost everyday and not see that, or if he just thought of Grantaire as being exceptionally useless. 

‘A lowly toad who came out to watch the eagles soar,’ Grantaire thought bitterly. He felt bad as soon the thought crossed his mind - even if Enjolras felt that way, the others didn’t. They were too kind. 

(He hoped)

Someone punched him in the arm, and he turned to stare into Bossuet’s grinning face. “You’ve been staring into your drink for the past five minutes! What’s up?”

“I’ll have you know that I was contemplating the secrets to good luck and luxurious hair, but now I guess I won’t share them with you.” 

Bossuet laughed, and Grantaire felt very fond of him. Enjolras had cut their meeting short; Grantaire knew it was because Combeferre and Joly hadn’t been able to make it. Grantaire and Bossuet had decided to grab a few drinks while Bossuet waited for Joly.

“I was thinking about how Enjolras wouldn’t give a shit if I showed up or not,” said Grantaire. His next thought was ‘oh shit, I hadn’t meant to say that.’

“Why would that bother you so much?” asked Bossuet.

Grantaire mumbled “I don’t know” into his drink.

“I just mean, I didn’t think you two even liked each other.”

“No,” Grantaire was slurring a bit now. “I have no problem with him. He’s the one who hates me.”

“You do hate a lot of his ideas. I’m sure that has nothing to do with it.” Bossuet was finding this far too amusing, in Grantaire’s opinion.

“That doesn’t mean I hate him!” Grantaire protested. “I don’t think everything you think is golden, and we’re still friends.”

“Seriously, why is this bothering you so much?”

Grantaire didn’t know. He’d never had trouble laughing things off before. 

He still hadn’t thought of an answer when Joly arrived, and the conversation turned to his exam. Bossuet put his arm around Joly and kissed his temple while Joly complained about how none of the questions made sense and the professor was an idiot and he was positive he had failed and fifteen minutes in he got a stress headache and was convinced for the rest of the exam that it was a brain tumour and he was going to die.

“How do you feel now?” Bossuet asked him, running his fingers down Joly’s arm.

Joly smiled at him. “Much better.”

They had such an easy, caring relationship. Even when they were focussed on completely different things, they could still relax together and talk about anything. Privately, Grantaire wished he had a relationship as affectionate and friendly as theirs. That they were also with the stunning Musichetta didn’t hurt the fantasy either. 

He idly tried to imagine what Enjolras would be like in a relationship; if he would relax enough to cuddle like Joly and Bossuet were doing. Somehow, he couldn’t quite picture it. Anyone Enjolras was with would have to keep up with him politically, and probably be just as devoted to the Greater Good as Enjolras was. They could spend all their time planning how best to overthrow the government, and go down together in a blaze of bullets and glory like Bonnie and Clyde. Wait, did Bonnie and Clyde go down in a blaze of glory? Didn’t matter, they’d still be remembered the same way - the two lovers who laughed at the law. 

They would probably be as beautiful and absolute as Enjolras. Grantaire couldn’t imagine him with anyone ordinary. 

The thought made his stomach twist and his throat feel tight.

Grantaire realized what had been bothering him.

_Oh._

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the name of a song in the Bonnie and Clyde musical.


End file.
